


facades

by sadifura



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6586267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadifura/pseuds/sadifura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it is three in the morning. nobody is up on the astral plane, except for charlotte, who is getting ready for another day. </p><p>she is given time to contemplate herself that day</p>
            </blockquote>





	facades

**Author's Note:**

> SO charlotte's a good character
> 
> and honestly i sorta feel the toughness is another facade, or like at least a front for people to not get close to her 
> 
> i bet shes really like. cynical and stuff
> 
> im not good at describing this but. content warning for identity issues 
> 
> rated t for language (i mean, it's charlotte)
> 
> sorry if its; short
> 
> characters and concepts belong to the creator of fire emblem

It is three in the morning, approximately. Nobody is up; no soul, even in a war, would be up at this hour! 

Except for Charlotte, that is.

There she was, awake in the middle of the night, to get ready for the day. She had to do her makeup; after all, a girl's got to look her best. 

She looked in the mirror, crushing a small flower to get the dye from it on her lips. "Funny," she said to herself, "I've been doing this shit for...what...ten years now?" She laughed bitterly, thinking of herself; rather, thinking of the false image of herself she projects. Of course, all people have facades: she's seen enough bullshit from people on the border patrol to know that some of her allies were hiding some aspects of their personalities in one way or another. But Charlotte's facade, or rather, facades, were numerous. She could probably drop the demure, innocent act for some other made up bullshit lie of a personality she'd have thought up.

And she could probably do it, too, at the drop of a hat.

"I guess my personality is kinda dependent on faking it, eh?"

Charlotte put on eye-shadow as she looked at her tired, weary eyes. Eyes that have probably seen way too much. Eyes that, due to stress, probably look much older. 

She laughed bitterly; "Gods, Charlotte," she said to herself, "you look like a fucking mess."

Her hair wasn't brushed yet; strands of her long locks were poking everywhere, and she didn't look bright, chipper, or young; she looked nothing like the part of the ingenue that she'd fashioned for herself to play. She just looked like a bitter woman who's been through it all.

"Well," she muttered, "fake it 'til you make it. No reason to try."


End file.
